


non possum fugere

by lieano



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: 18th Century, Alternate Universe - Historical, F/F, Falling In Love, Happier ending than source material, Portrait of a lady on fire au, ish, it all happened pre-story, no character death on the page, old timey sexism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:22:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23399902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lieano/pseuds/lieano
Summary: “Okay,” Soleil said. “So how do I paint her if she won’t sit still?”If Jakob was pleased to have won Soleil over, it was completely unreadable on his face. “We told her you were to be her companion. She pushed against the notion, but not near as much as she did a painter. Go on walks with her, spend time with her. Memorize her. And then, in your free moments, paint her. In secret. Are you up to the challenge?”
Relationships: Éponine | Nina/Soleil
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	non possum fugere

**Author's Note:**

> I've been itching to write more solnina, but I was at a loss for a plot until I saw Portrait of a Lady on Fire. What a gorgeous, heartbreaking movie. I'm using the basic plot, but we'll move away from the actual content very quickly. It's a very quiet, speechless movie, so hopefully I can capture some of the emotion and aesthetic with my words, but mostly I just want to write this falling in love story about Soleil and Nina. With a happier ending. But a really sad beginning, there is a small chance a charater you love has recently died when the fic opens, so be aware of that. I'll get into it deeper in later chapters. (None of the characters tagged in the fic die or are dead. Jsyk.) Um, I don't know what else to say. I know theaters are closed right now, but if you ever get a chance to see Portrait of a Lady on Fire, please do. Support the film makers. Okay, enjoy the fic!

Painting was new to Soleil. An addition to her collection of ‘romantic arts’, as she called them. Poetry, baking, gardening, she had mastered them all and been successful in every one. Her family had imparted on her a legacy of music - dancing and singing - but she found herself to be inelegant on her feet and dreadfully tone deaf. So in an effort to follow in her father’s passion of charming and entertaining the fairer sex, she had turned to other skills and perfected them. Merely being suave was not enough to satisfy Soleil. She wrote custom verses about individual women’s unique beauty. She discovered their preferences and baked them warm sweets and silky chocolates to go with the intimate tea times she invited them on. She grew her own roses and lilies and cut professional level bouquets for every girl she met. And now, ever the philanthropist eager to widen her horizons, she would paint picture perfect portraits that would capture the indescribably particulars of beauties the world over.

It wasn't long at all before she found herself in employment with her fist real portrait commission. Soleil was good at all non-musical hobbies she took up and this seemed to be no exception. She painted a few small portraits to spread her name around, and in a few months found herself docking at a tiny island owned by a wealthy family willing to pay her actual money. While she did her romantic arts as a passion of the heart and often made a point not to take coin for any finished products, supplies were expensive and so she made an exception just this once and accepted. It was only as she was unloading and picked up on some gossip from the sailors about the family hosting her did she truly start to feel guilty about breaking her rule. 

“I’m sorry! I cannot do this,” Soleil blurted when she later found herself in an audience with the family’s butler, Jakob. 

Jakob was an incredibly well dressed man. His hair and clothes meticulously taken care of, pressed and clean. His expression was stern, but his frown lines were surprisingly new. He probably took as well care of his complexion as everything else. He stood in front of Soleil with his shoulders squared and his hands folded behind his back. Next to him, she must have looked like a street ruffian in her tattered traveling clothes and her shoulders laden with boxes of painting supplies. 

“Pardon me. Are you saying you cannot paint a portrait for us after all?” His deep tone was laced with disappointment and Soleil tried not to flinch. She was not accustomed to being scolded. 

“No, I can paint. But I cannot accept payment. Your hospitality until the portrait is finished should suffice in lieu of money.” 

Jakob shook his head. “Don’t be ridiculous. You will be paid.” 

“But I-” 

“Let me guess. Did the sailors tell you a bit about our… unique circumstances?” 

Soleil bit her tongue. She wanted to keep arguing but he commanded so much authority and she was already exhausted from fighting it. “A little.” 

“Yes, well. Let me assure you that this is no great expense. Money is one of the few things left in this home anymore. We have plenty to spare.” Before Soleil could continue her argument, he gestured to a chair beside Soleil, inviting her to sit. While she unloaded her coat and bags, he turned to the maid who stood by obediently. An adorable little pink-haired woman who jumped when she was acknowledged, as if being stirred from a daydream. “Felicia, fetch us some tea will you? And please do be careful.” 

Felicia bowed and scurried from the room. Jakob took the seat opposite Soleil, as well as a deep breath. There was a beat of tense silence and Jakob said, “Everything you heard is likely true, so let us just move on from what has happened to what our situation is now. Do you know what the nature of the portrait we have brought you here for is?” 

Soleil shook her head, timid now after her attempt to be galant was thwarted. “I know it's of the young lady of the house.” 

“It is a marriage portrait. This island is rather isolated and removed from the mainland and it is difficult for us to travel at this time. When this portrait is finished, we will send it with you back to the mainland where you will deliver it into the possession of a matchmaker who will find our young lady a suitor.” 

“Oh!” Soleil gasped happily. She clapped her hands together just as Felicia came back with a tray of tea. She seemed a little unsure on her feet, but made it to a table and let out a great sigh of relief. As she poured three cups, Soleil poured her passions out for Jakob. “You need me to not only recreate her likeness but to capture the very essence of her beauty! The details that make her stand out as a one of a kind divine creation! Well, you have come to the right painter! I have an eye for feminine elegance unlike any other!” 

Jakob accepted his tea cup from the now stunned Felicia before she dropped it all over him. He looked far less amused or impressed than she. “Well. At least you are… enthusiastic.” 

Soleil took her tea as well as a moment to feel proud of herself. The tea was amazing. She was, in hindsight, lured into a false sense of comfort by it. 

“Unfortunately, I fear this won't be a walk in the park for you, no matter how skilled you are. There is a catch.” 

“A catch?” Soleil asked, more curious than apprehensive. 

“The lady does not wish to be painted. She has an… affliction that makes her rather shy around men and the idea of marriage horrifies her. She will not sit for a portrait. We have already been through three painters that could not tame her.” 

Soleil let Jakob’s concession sink into the embers of her gut and catch fire. It was a flame that had not been stoked in quite a while, but she felt her finger tips blaze with it’s familiar passionate fury. She set her tea down and stood. “There’s been a misunderstanding. I’m sorry about your situation, but I’m not here to ‘tame’ a lady. If she doesn’t want to marry perhaps you should respect that.” 

Jakob held her eye contact for quite a while before he closed his eyes and sighed. “Very well. If that's how you feel then-” 

“No, Jakob, please!” the poor maid squeaked. It had to be the first time she said anything of substance but now Soleil was drawn to her. She looked on the verge of tears and her hands were shaking, rattling her tea cup against the small plate it sat on. If Soleil was about to be played by the servants’ contradictory attitudes then so be it. She would lend this woman her trust, she knew it implicitly. 

“You are our last hope,” Felicia pleaded. “The young lady will be happy to be wed, she’s just scared right now! I know it seems harsh but…” Now Felicia’s eyes did well up. “We don’t want her to be lonely anymore.” 

“Among other reasons,” Jakob added sternly. “Perhaps you have the luxury of living as you wish, but as an heiress, the young lady is not entitled to any of her own property. She will lose her money, her house. Us. As horrible as it may seem, she _needs_ a husband. It is the law.” 

Soleil scoffed, but said little else. He was right. As a nobody, Soleil was able to live life as she wanted, no one cared. But in these times, a woman, especially one of high stature, could own little without a man to sign all the papers. 

“Okay,” Soleil said after a beat that saw Felicia sighing with relief, one tear making its way down her pretty face and into her cup. “So how do I paint her if she won’t sit still?” 

If Jakob was pleased to have won Soleil over, it was completely unreadable on his face. “We told her you were to be her companion. She pushed against the notion, but not near as much as she did a painter. Go on walks with her, spend time with her. Memorize her. And then, in your free moments, paint her. In secret. Are you up to the challenge?” 

There was so much about these circumstances that Soleil hated. The money, the deceit. The inherent sexism of the world that she would become just another wheel in the wagon of. But for this girl to live a stable life? She’d do it. She hadn’t even met the lady yet and she knew that much. Soleil nodded. “I am.” 

Jakob nodded back. “Then Felicia will show you to your rooms. The one you will be sleeping in and the one you will be painting in. By the time you are settled, I’m certain the lady will be up for lunch and then we’ll introduce you.” 

With that, Jakob took the tea cup from beside Soleil and marched off. Soleil turned to Felicia who wiped away a tear and helped her gather her belongings. “Follow me,” she said and took off. 

The house was so vast and empty. They walked down the hallways where portraits and statues and furniture were covered in large sheets to protect them from dust. Soleil had an instant appreciation for how much the upkeep on this estate must be for just two people. After a grand staircase and a couple of winding hallways, Felicia stopped at a door. She glanced about to make sure the coast was clear and ushered Soleil inside, quietly shutting the door behind them. 

Felicia scrambled to the windows to draw back the curtains and let in light as Soleil looked around. It was a bedroom. All the furniture was covered in sheets, of course. It must be unused. But she could make out the shapes of a small bed, a dresser, a sofa, a toy box. Even a small piano that Soleil went to. She lifted the sheet and ran her fingers over the aged wood. It reminded her of the first piano her father had bought her when she was really little, in an effort to draw out her musical talent. A wave of nostalgia washed over her, drawing her fingers toward the keys. 

“Oh, no, please, don’t!” Felicia squeaked. Soleil jumped and replaced the cloth. 

“Uh, yeah, sorry,” Soleil said sheepishly. “Better not. I’m rubbish anyway.” 

Felicia shook her head. “That’s not strictly why. This will be your secret painting room. The young lady never comes in here. As long as you don’t make a ruckus, she never will.” 

Ah. Soleil set down her boxes of canvasses and paints. She looked around the room again, this time as an appraising painter rather than just a guest. The walls were light blue with white trim, bright and calming. It was situated on the east wing of the house, so it would be easiest to paint in the morning with the natural light from the rising sun. She wondered if her subject was an early riser. For Felicia’s sake she nodded and said, “I can work with this.” 

Felicia sighed with relief and smiled. “Wonderful! Please don’t let the lady see you entering or leaving. Now, if you’ll follow me to your sleeping chambers.” 

They walked down a new hallway and a set of stairs. Along the way, they passed by a room that had the door cracked open and Soleil couldn’t help it. She leaned into it and took a peek inside. It was a library unlike anything Soleil had ever seen. Two stories high, wall to wall books with ladders to help reach those up high. Soleil was probably an average reader, but even she could tell that the volumes kept inside were old and cherished. It was one of the few places she’d seen not covered in sheets and yet it smelled so clean. 

“Um, Miss Soleil?” Felicia squeaked when she realized Soleil was no longer following her. Soleil popped back to attention and scurried after Felicia. 

The guest room was not as nice as the room she’d be painting in, but it was still nicer than any room she’d lived in to date. And it was clean. Fresh duvet on the king sized bed, fresh curtains on the huge windows that overlooked a garden. Her own vanity and fireplace. The scent of flowers filled the room, courtesy of the vase sitting on the table near the hearth. Soliel took a long inhale and sighed pleasantly. 

“Oh my. This is _gorgeous_.” 

“Really?” Felicia asked, beaming. “You like it?” 

Soleil could tell by the pride she was radiating that it was all Felicia’s handiwork. She nodded emphatically, eager to compliment. “I will be incredibly comfortable here. Thank you.” 

Felicia blushed a cute pink that matched her hair. She looked like a rose. Soleil was about to say as much. She was not adverse to flirting with older women and, well, being stuck in a house for a month with a man and a girl meant for marriage, she was bound to get bored. She opened her mouth, only for Felicia to beat her to the punch. 

“Well, I will let you get settled in. When you are finished, lunch will be ready. But, uh, no rush! Take your time!” Then Felicia bowed and ducked out. 

Soleil sighed. She had more lines, like about how she’d like Felicia to stick around for her ‘settling in’ or how she’d have to restrain herself from rushing to lunch with the promise of getting to know Felicia better looming. Instead, she put her ambitions in the back of her mind and her clothes in the dresser. 

While flirting would be a good way to spend her time, Soleil was thankful for the break to sit and think. When she was finished unpacking, she opened the windows and sat over the garden for a moment. The fresh breeze combed out her travel abused hair. The flowers were at the peak of their bloom, colorful and arranged with care. Soleil thought briefly that she’d like to paint a fair maiden standing in the center of the garden, her beauty accentuated by the refreshing natural scenery. And then she remembered that her paints and doodle pads were in a secret room upstairs. She looked toward the ceiling and took a breath. 

“Paint a portrait without the subject knowing,” she muttered to herself, imagining the girl sitting in her room, consumed with contradiction. “Sounds like a challenge.” 

She had been resting a while but hadn’t quite arrived at the decision to go to lunch when a yelp great enough to reach her room caught Soleil’s attention. She leapt from the window and through the door. The house was massive and Soleil had no grasp on the layout yet. How could she? The cry was brief, but it was alarmingly enough that she pinged its location. Her instincts never betrayed her when a lady was in trouble. She ended up just around the corner in the kitchen. 

The scene was one of minor chaos. A pot was upturned, water and still raw potatoes littering the floor. Neither Felicia nor Jakob seemed concerned with the mess. They both were consumed with hovering near the pantry door. 

“Please, Miss, we just want to ensure you’re unharmed,” Felicia wailed. 

“No!” came a muffled voice from inside the pantry. A new voice. Soleil was pretty sure she knew who. “I’m just going to live in here until she leaves! And don’t test me because there’s enough food in here to last a year!” 

“Miss, if I may speak freely don’t be ridiculous,” Jakob said, his tone completely calm. 

“You may not speak freely! I can do what I want! I’m a grown woman!” 

“You’re acting like a child.” 

“ _You’re_ acting like a child!” 

“Um,” Soleil said, hoping that it was enough of an introduction to her appearance. Sure enough, the servants finally pulled their attention from the pantry to greet her. Or rather, to register her presence. “Is there a problem? 

“Is that her?” came the harsh muffled voice. “Tell her to go away! I don’t need a companion! I’m fine on my own!” 

Ah. Soleil understood the problem now. Jakob had said she was not pleased with buying a companion, but he made it seem as though she’d relented. He had been stretching the truth. Soleil had a bit more work ahead of her than she’d been prepared for. 

Fortunately, charming ladies was her specialty. 

“Perhaps a companion is not what you desire, but I did not come empty handed. I brought gifts.” 

A pause. Shuffling. Then a huff and denial. “I don’t need anything. Except to be left alone. I have everything I could ever need already.” 

“Oh, you do? I guess that’s true. I passed by the library earlier and the collection was impressive. Lots of older texts. If you have such an affinity for the classics you might not enjoy the newer books I brought along.” 

There’s another pause. A longer one. Soleil looked over her shoulder and gave Jakob and Felicia a thumbs up. The small sound of the pantry door creaking open brought her back. 

It was too dark inside the pantry to see anything. But a hand, small and dark skinned, wrapped around the door frame. Even though Soleil couldn’t see details she could perceive the body language of the girl. Coiled and cautious. Afraid of her own curiosity. She took a breath and then a risk, opening a proverbial door rather than the real one. 

“How new?” 

“The first one I brought to read to you was published just last year,” Soleil was sure to keep her tone light and unassuming. There was not a trace of smug victory in any of her openly friendly movements or words, even though she knew she was on the verge of winning. “Everyone is raving about how progressive it is. It’s a big hit.” 

“What genre is it?” 

This was the tricky part. The girl was watching her, and would notice if she turned to ask for a hint. And besides, she didn't want to lie, she wanted to charm. Charming was always about honesty for Soleil. You could tell a wise woman what she wanted to hear all day, but then her trust would wane and your earnest compliments would fall flat. She would tell the truth about the books she brought with her, she just had to tread carefully, read the responses, and predict which parts of the story to put emphasis on. 

“It’s an adventure,” Soleil said slowly, watching for movement. There was a stir, hesitant but she moved forward. Now Soleil could see her shoe, but she wanted more. “Suspenseful.” The girl pulled back. Not her cup of tea? She wanted something softer and more predictable than that? Soleil grinned and drove it home. “But at the heart of the story is an intense romance.” 

The door flew open, and there she was. Soleil’s age, but much smaller. Slight, with long legs that bent beneath her. Her skin was soft and golden brown. Her hair was a wild mess of silvery white, like snow falling down her back in rampant tiny curls. Her cheeks were round, the only part of her still plump with baby fat, and they pinched her mouth together in a natural pout. Her eyes were huge crystals, the faintest tinge of blue flecked around the irises. Looking at her, Soleil was subconsciously thankful she had come here as a painter and not a poet because she was so stunning she had quite literally taken all of Soleil’s words away with just one glance. 

The girl narrowed her gemstone eyes at Soleil and blew out a haughty breath. Her skin was dark with heat under her eyes and at the tip of her nose. “Alright, fine,” She said, unaware of Soleil’s enrapture. “If it’s a romance, you may read it to me.” 

This was Nina. The girl Soleil would be painting.


End file.
